


Dancing in the Mirror

by CarmillaCarmine



Series: The Johnlock Utopia (Holidays and Celebrations) Series [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Body Worship, Established Relationship, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Happy Sex, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Mirrors, Shower Sex, Showers, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2020-12-09 16:55:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20998190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarmillaCarmine/pseuds/CarmillaCarmine
Summary: Sherlock orders a mirror and has interesting plans that include naked John.





	1. The Package

**Author's Note:**

> If you're reading this as a standalone: John and Sherlock have been engaged since Christmas. The [Johnlock Utopia AU](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1256318)  
this series takes place is a happy one (no fall, no angst etc).

The seemingly ear-piercing sound of the doorbell woke John up from his nap on the sofa. He kept his eyes closed for one more second, wishing for his fiancé to open the door. The silence in the house was broken again by another ring of the doorbell. With a groan, John threw the blanket off his body and stood up. 

To his utter astonishment, he opened the door to a delivery man. He held no package, but he was looking at the pad in his hands that held the delivery instructions. 

“Delivery for Mr. Holmes.” He said looking at John questioningly.

“I can sign for it.” John replied suppressing a yawn. 

The delivery man waved to follow him and they both dragged a package out of the delivery van that was the size and shape of a door. He helped the man carry the heavy box into the foyer, refusing to think what Sherlock had ordered this time. His previous surprise had been a sex swing, which hadn’t come on time as Sherlock had planned, but even a week after it had proven very useful. 

He made it all the way to the kitchen and was putting the kettle to boil, when he heard his name being yelled. 

“John!” was the first word Sherlock usually uttered when he entered their flat and this time was no exception. “Come down and help me carry this up.” 

John had to refrain from stomping heavily like a 12-year-old would as he walked downstairs again. 

“Hello, John. Thank you for picking up my orders. I hope your nap was good.” John said in a low tone, mocking Sherlock’s baritone. “Yes, it was.” He answered himself in a normal voice. “Now would you tell me what’s inside?” 

Sherlock rolled his eyes and tapped his knuckle on the big package. “Look at it, John and tell me what you see.” 

“It looks like a door in a box.” John answered flatly. 

“You see but-” 

“Yeah yeah, I know, I don’t observe.” John mocked Sherlock's voice while giving the package a closer look. He frowned, looked at it for a moment, then turned to Sherlock. “Did you order a painting?” 

Sherlock sighed with exasperation so John continued his deduction. 

“No, it’s too heavy...” He gave himself one more moment before he exclaimed. “It’s a mirror!” John deduced, grinning from the certain success. 

“Excellent. Now help me get it to our bedroom.” Sherlock was not a fan of praising someone other than himself, but the look on his face was enough for John. 

With a series of manoeuvres, and a lot of grunting, they managed to drag the bloody heavy mirror all the way to the bedroom upstairs and unpack it. 

“Ok, now tell me what got into you to order this?” John looked at the equally classy and enormous mirror that now stood against the wall facing their bed. 

“I wanted us to be able to see each other well in our Halloween costumes.” 

“Sherlock...” The warning and suspicion were clear in his voice as he recalled previous costume ideas Sherlock had had. The Easter bunny one being a fine example. 

“It’s nothing you would disapprove of, I made sure of that. They’re classic costumes, you’ll see tomorrow.” 

John didn’t believe that for a second but he nodded, knowing arguing before he saw the costumes would be pointless. 

“What’s wrong with your pirate costume?” John asked instead. 

“I wore it last year.” Sherlock shook his head. “John, have a sense of dramatic once a year.” 

“I see your dramatic side all year, so maybe that’s enough. The world doesn’t-” 

John’s words were cut off by a kiss. All his aggravation left him in a split second as he melted into his fiancé's body. Sherlock’s hands were at his lower back and nape respectively, pulling him close. John wrapped his arms around Sherlock and opened to the kiss. The slide of Sherlock’s tongue into his mouth sparked heat inside John and he dove into the kiss more hungrily. It was absolutely amazing how Sherlock could manipulate him with just a kiss, because he didn’t care about the mirror or the costumes anymore. He cared about tasting more of Sherlock and absolutely nothing else. Closing his eyes, John enjoyed the sound of a quiet moan that came from the impossible man kissing the life out of him. 

The kiss ended too quickly though, leaving John gasping for more. 

“I need a shower.” Sherlock announced close above John’s lips. His smile grew wider as he eyed John. “Hmm you’re all sweaty from carrying the mirror... Care to join me then?” 

“Brat!” John squeezed Sherlock’s bum in his hands before letting go to push Sherlock toward the door. “I can tell you’re desperate for my help and I took the Hippocratic Oath so I can’t refuse.” John sassed back. 

Sherlock’s chuckle followed him as they went to the bathroom. 

\- 

After they’d decided on making the upstairs bedroom their shared one, they had been struggling with a need for a bathroom upstairs. It had taken the whole month of August to create the en-suite bathroom but it was worth it. The shower stall consisted of three tiled walls and a glass door. The inside was big enough for the both of them to wash comfortably at the same time. For the last several weeks, they had been too busy with the onslaught of cases to take full advantage of the new luxury, but now the wait was over. 

Sherlock was unbuttoning his shirt as he stood on the cold tiles of their bathroom. As he disrobed, he observed John’s undressing routine and decided that he would have to eradicate that particular part of military training from his fiancé's behaviour, at least for when he was undressing in front of Sherlock. John took his clothes off as if they were on fire, threw them in the hamper and was in the shower stall within moments. Efficient, but it lacked the finesse Sherlock knew John was capable of. 

They behaved like horny teenagers at times, but there were also instances when they took their sweet time and explored each other’s bodies, giving each other the attention they deserved. John was excellent at teasing, making Sherlock burn slowly with a fire of a thousand suns. However, he definitely needed a lesson from Sherlock one day on how one should undress in front of their fiancé. 

Sherlock’s back was to John when he moved his shoulders so that his shirt would slide freely to the floor. Feeling John’s gaze on him, he bent over to slide his trousers and boxers all the way to his ankles before he stepped out of them. When he finally turned, John’s eyes were full of fire and he looked more than ready for a cold shower. Next time, he would prepare for a better and longer show for John. 

Trying not to look too smug and failing miserably, Sherlock stepped into the glass stall. He turned on the water and John took a step closer to him to avoid the spray until it settled at the right temperature. 

John’s hands were working fast and efficiently as he poured some shower gel on his hands and was clearly about to wash himself quickly. Again, the speed was essential at times where they were in a hurry or tired after a case and ready to hit the sheets as fast as possible. However, that was not the case this time. 

“John?” Sherlock wanted to get his fiancé's attention and succeeded as John looked up at him. “Slow down.” He slid the glass door closed, sealing them inside. “Let me.” He took John’s soapy hands and lowered them to the sides. 

“Bossy.” John chided playfully raking his gaze over Sherlock’s naked body. Clearly, he was already on board with whatever Sherlock had in store for him. His trust and openness scared Sherlock at times. It was a great privilege to hold someone’s ultimate trust in one’s hands and the power that gave was terrifyingly huge. All that made Sherlock hesitate between the extremes of telling John to kneel and pouring himself at John’s feet. 

With chin up and face flushed, John looked absolutely gorgeous. His chest was rising and falling faster than normal as he stood at ease and ready to be washed. 

Deliberately slowly, Sherlock reached for the shower gel on the tiled shelf inside the spacious shower stall. 

Sherlock’s lips twitched in a smile as his gaze followed the water that was now sliding off of John’s back and shoulders and disappearing into the drain in the tiled floor. 

Lathering his hands, Sherlock stepped within John’s reach, and put his palms on John’s shoulders. It was bizarre how a simple touch like this could still excite him so much, even after he had had the chance to learn every inch of John’s body. Sherlock made tiny circles, washing John’s skin while watching the eager look on his fiancé's face. He washed John’s arms and moved lower until his palms slid into John’s. They held hands for a moment, the quiet of the shower broken only by the rushing sound of the water. 

Sherlock leaned in for a kiss. It was a soft touch of the lips then a hot and fast kiss before Sherlock pulled away, knowing that if he deepened it, he wouldn’t be able to stop what usually followed their passionate kisses. 

“Tease.” John made his disapproval known as a playful growl left him and his eyes narrowed. 

“I didn’t finish washing you.” Sherlock pulled John’s hands behind his back so he could hold them there. “No touching.” 

With more soap, he lathered John’s pecs, circling his fingertips around John’s nipples, avoiding them on purpose in his need to drive John wild. John’s chest rose and fell as he was clearly waiting for his nipples to be touched. However, Sherlock’s hands moved to John’s sides then his abdomen all the way to his neatly trimmed pubic area, then back up. 

“Sherlock.” John said with a warning but his hands remained behind his back. He thrust his hips, making his already hardened cock bounce as it pointed at Sherlock. 

“Don’t move.” Sherlock’s tone was low as he continued caressing around John’s erogenous zones but not touching any. “Don’t move or it will be over too soon.” He adored John’s body and wished he had enough words to tell him how much. Instead, he focused on showing by worshiping John’s body the way it deserved. John’s legs tensed and he released a groan of pleasure as his cock twitched once producing a drop of precome on the tip. 

“I want you Sherlock... I want your mouth on me. I want your body on me...” John panted the words that made Sherlock’s body ignite even more. In order to marginally alleviate the need in his cock, Sherlock tugged it once. The groan that left him made John curse under his breath. He tugged twice more, watching John’s reaction and basking in the heated haze. 

“You’ll have me, John. Now tell me how much you want me.” Sherlock smirked before he knelt in front of John. 


	2. The Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John learns how much Sherlock adores his body.

“I want you however you can take me or give yourself to me, Sherlock. I don’t care just...  ahhh ... just don’t stop” Sherlock was about to kill him as he blew a cool breath over John’s cock in comparison with the heat of the shower. The lust flowing through John at Sherlock’s teasing was about to drive him crazy. Then again, if he could stay crazy with Sherlock like that forever, it wouldn’t be such a bad life. John was looking down at Sherlock’s naked form kneeling in front of him. Naked and aroused, he was a wet dream come true  as he looked up at John with eyes worth loosing yourself in. The water from the shower above was sliding off John’s back and washing off some of the suds that Sherlock had applied before. Now, he was lathering his hands again and starting to wash John's leg at the ankle. 

Sherlock was an erotic god of touch. He was able to caress John’s ankle with such finesse and precision; he could bring to life zones that John had no idea could be erogenous. Sherlock’s fingers massaged and washed John’s left leg to the knee with small soft strokes. When he reached John’s thigh it was hard for John not to moan in need for mo re, especially when his inner thigh was given special attention. 

“That feels so good, Sherlock.” John put a hand on Sherlock’s hair, needing to touch the soft curls  and ground himself.

“Hands behind your back.” The barked ord er in Sherlock’s low voice sent a shiver through John and he obeyed immediately, linking his hands behind his back.

Sherlock knew how to use his voice to coax John into compliance. He had also taught John to respond to that tone because it meant good things were coming his way. Sherlock’s fingertips caressing his inner thigh were a study in John’s patience and self-restraint as he tried not to writhe in search for more.

There were times when John wanted to devour Sherlock, take control and have him at his mercy. This time, however, he was happy to keep his hands behind his back and succumb to Sherlock’s hands and open-mouthed kisses along his inner thigh.

“Sherlock...” The name was a moan on John’s lips.

“Mmmm?” Sherlock murmured the sound into John’s skin, the soft vibration tickling and spreading throughout John.

“ Fuuck ...” He moaned again, clearly not capable of coherent speech anymore.

“Later.” Sherlock grinned wolfishly, reaching for more soap. 

Even though John had anticipated the touch, he still sucked in a breath when Sherlock reached for his balls to wash them. The caress was soft but the wash was thorough and driving John wild. The long fingers inched under John’s sac making him widen his stance in lieu of vocal consent. 

Sherlock’s gaze was upturned, looking at John, his big eyes filled with as much lust as tenderness. With one hand he continued massaging John’s sac while the other reached for John’s cock. John thrust into the slack grip washing his erection, wanting more. After several strokes however, Sherlock stood up slowly, his hands working their way up John’s belly, over his pecs and to his neck. 

John closed his eyes to revel in the scorching touch that ignited his body. Sherlock’s mouth replaced his hands over the sensitive flesh of John’s neck, kissing gently but increasing in intensity. John’s gasp was captured by Sherlock’s lips as his hands slid to graze John’s nipples. Unashamedly, John moaned into the kiss, deepening it, wordlessly begging him to continue. 

The air left John’s lungs as his plea was heard and his back hit the tiled wall of the shower when Sherlock pushed him and crowded him with his tall frame. In spite of that, John opened to the kiss, needing Sherlock's lips more than he needed air. John’s hands reached for Sherlock, squeezing his firm buttocks, pulling him even closer. The showerhead was now above Sherlock, the water wetting his hair, sliding down his magnificent body and John’s hands on it.

Sherlock broke the kiss to look into John’s eyes, catching air between panting breaths. There was so much more than lust in them, it made John’s knees go weak and his heart swell. 

John often wondered how Sherlock could worship his body when it was so imperfect, but he had never seen a single negative glance or opinion from his lover. 

“I adore your body, John.” Sherlock said above John’s lips as if he’d read his mind, just as he always had. 

“Even this?” John patted his soft belly, feeling quite self-conscious.

“Especially this.” Sherlock kissed him again, sliding his hands from John’s belly and around his waist. There were times John wished he was in the same shape as his military days. Today, hearing the sincerity in Sherlock’s voice, he didn’t care. He made a move to usher them to the bedroom, needing Sherlock on a flat and comfortable surface, but was met with a protest.

“I haven’t washed your back yet.” Sherlock stopped him and in a swift move, prompted John to turn and place his hands on the tiled wall. John followed the movement, presenting his backside to his lover in the process.

“I also adore this.” Sherlock squeezed John’s arse cheeks before giving one a solid slap that echoed in the bathroom. The delicious sting turned into warmth and subsequent need for more.

“ Mmm anything else?” Unabashedly, John thrust his arse back.

“John Watson!” Sherlock gasped theatrically. “Are you fishing for compliments?!”

“Shut up!” John replied as a grin s plit his face.  He was the one that always showered Sherlock with praise, but he also needed an ego boost  occasionally .

“Never!” Sherlock's hands took John’s hips in a possessive hold that made John feel like a true object of desire. He could feel Sherlock’s long, erect cock pressing between his arse cheeks and he moved to add friction but Sherlock’s vice-like grip prevented him. Once it loosened, one of Sherlock’s hands reached for John’s cock wrenching a needy sound out of him. 

“Here’s another lovely part of your body that’s on my list.” Sherlock growled into John’s ear as he stroked his cock, making his breathing pick up and fire kindle in his abdomen. At the same time, John felt Sherlock’s cock rutting between his arse cheeks as if looking for a way in. The feeling was so good, too good in fact, for what was still in store for the evening.

“I’ll... oh God Sherlock, you can’t… or I’ll come like this.” It was the weakest of protests John had ever uttered and he was sure Sherlock knew it.

“No, you won’t.” Sherlock squeezed John’s cock harder, mercilessly wringing a groan of pleasure from him. “You’d rather come with my cock inside you while I take you on the bed.”

Those words pronounced in a low sexy growl washed over John with intent but all he could do was nod. It was the absolute truth and his mind painted the picture Sherlock’s words described in vivid detail. They had been playing that game for a while now and John knew how to pull himself from the brink of orgasm more than once in one session, just so he could climax with tripled intensity later. 

Sherlock’s  right hand continued toying with John’s erection as his left reached between his cheeks, taking the place previously occupied by Sherlock’s cock. John’s gasp turned into a moan as Sherlock massaged his entrance under the guise of cleaning. He rested his forehead on the cold wall in a futile attempt to cool his head, but instead ended up positioning his arse to be more available to Sherlock’s ministrations.

“I think...” Jo hn breathed heavily. “I think I’m clean now,” was what he said but what he thought, however, was  closer to:  _ ‘I want to be in bed with you already’ _ .

When Sherlock’s touch disappeared from John’s body, longing to have it back took its place. Still coming down from the brink of orgasm, John turned to see the detective washing himself. He must know that John had been teased long enough but the graceful form of Sherlock Holmes that stood before him continued a new kind of tease. Sherlock’s hands glided over his body as if choreographed, as if he was posing for a shoot in an erotic movie. John stood motionless, mesmerised, as his gaze followed the movement from Sherlock’s long neck then lower. The suds disappeared when Sherlock stepped under the spray reminding John of a tide washing over the surface of perfectly smooth rocks. Not for the first time, John found himself jealous of droplets of water as they had the privilege of cleansing Sherlock’s body.

Sherlock was looking at John as he continued washing and John knew the exact moment Sherlock imagined John’s hands on him. His mouth parted and his gaze darkened again as he was washing his cock, never lowering his gaze from John. 

As if pulled by unimaginable forces of lust, John knelt and looking up, opened his mouth. Sherlock’s cock was heavy when it was placed on his tongue as if it was a reward. John closed his lips over the head and sucked, his tongue playing with the frenulum, administering a tease in revenge. 

“Bed! Now!” Sherlock growled just a moment later, pulling his cock out with an audible pop and groaning as he  squeezed it in his hand.

John didn’t have to be told twice and, in a few movements, he turned off the shower and caught the towel that flew his way.

Upon entering the bedroom, John’s eyes followed Sherlock’s body, the gorgeous body that was his to take and that took from him. He watched as Sherlock’s arse muscles moved when Sherlock walked in front of him. Oh, how he loved that  perfect arse. Loved to bite it, lick it, caress it and dive between the cheeks with his tongue. 

Then Sherlock stopped and turned his head to look at John over his shoulder. If it was a movie from John’s point of view, there would be light coming down from above, illuminating Sherlock’s face as sexy music played in the background. Sherlock would wink and John would follow him to bed knowing he was the happiest man alive. The way it happened was a lot like that anyway. 


	3. The Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock finally make good use of the newly acquired mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more chapters but this is the end of the first part and so the fic can be read as complete (until more chapters come).

Sherlock was standing in front of the mirror, one hand on his bare hip, the other tracing the ornate silver frame of the newly acquired mirror. It was a sight to behold and John wished he had eidetic memory so he could remember each detail of Sherlock’s pose and each curve of his body as he stood, looking like a pale marble statue in the Louvre. What he would remember however, was how the sight made him feel. The physical attraction was a given but the very knowledge that the gorgeous and brilliant man before him was his fiancé made his mind reel with disbelief.

“Magnificent, isn't it?” Sherlock noted turning to look at him without changing his regal pose.

“I keep telling you that.” John retorted, making Sherlock roll his eyes as his smile widened. 

“The mirror, John. The mirror!” The bellow was as theatrical as the man himself, who waved his arm, unabashed at his nakedness. 

John neared his fiancé, his bare feet making little noise on the wooden floor.

“I don’t care about the  mir \- oooopf!” John caught Sherlock as the man jumped on him and wrapped his legs around John’s waist. The impact caused John to stumble backwards and they both ended up falling on the bed behind them. “You’re insane!” John’s exclamation turned into a giggle as Sherlock nibbled gently at his neck. 

“How is that news to you?” Sherlock chuckled into John’s skin as his body writhed on top of John suggestively. “I want you, John...I want you on your knees facing the mirror. Right now.” Sherlock growled into his ear, his tone growing serious, erotic. The command hit John like a desperately desired slap on the arse. Sherlock had the uncanny ability to be ridiculous and commanding at the same time and it was exactly what John needed. They moved around, awkwardly, as one does on a bed, until they were in the position that Sherlock had decreed. Before John settled, however, he straightened on his knees and turned his head angling for a kiss. He felt Sherlock’s body flush to his back as his lover’s hand stroked his cheek. There was as much affection as heated lust in the kiss as their tongues moved briefly before John lowered himself back to the mattress. He saw himself in the mirror; his face flushed as he was propped on his hands and knees, his arse presented to Sherlock. 

He felt self-conscious looking at himself naked in the mirror at first, but when he saw Sherlock behind him, his fiancé's his slightly wet chest gleaming, he decided he wouldn’t be looking at himself anyway. Sherlock was on his knees behind John and looking at John’s expression in the mirror with an inquiring gaze. He put his left palm on John’s lower back then started a languid slide upward, along John’s spine, observing the movement in the reflection. The touch was soft, but so possessive it made John breathe heavily as his body flushed even more. He arched into the touch and, seeing the beginnings of Sherlock’s wicked smile, he saw his own face change as well. 

His lips were parted and he wore a hungry, heated expression. To himself, he looked ridiculous, but clearly Sherlock liked it as his right hand started a caress of John’s right arse cheek. John knew what was coming and he felt the anticipation make his heart pound faster and the blood rush lower at the very thought. He gave a barely perceptible nod before the first loud slap echoed in the room. 

John gasped as the sweet sting transformed into heat, pain turned into pleasure delivered by Sherlock’s large palm. He felt himself relax even more, placing his trust into Sherlock’s hands, knowing that whatever the madman comes up with in bed, always ends well for them both. Sherlock was consistent in assessing his reaction to all John did with astounding accuracy and now was no exception. Therefore, when John spoke, Sherlock was already expecting it, lifting his arm away and angling for another slap. 

“You can do better, Sherlock. Ah!” The smack landed on his other cheek, harder this time, making  John’s body flinch forward involuntarily.  _ Oh, this felt so good... _

“Better?” John could hear as well as see Sherlock's smirk in the mirror as he asked the question. 

“If I can see the mark your palm made when we’re done, then yes.” John sassed back, knowing how to play this game.

The hard slap on his right cheek was proper this time and John could feel the blood that rushed to his butt cheek, warm it. Before Sherlock, John would never allow anyone to order him about in the bedroom. He was used to following orders in the army, but this was different. The decisions Sherlock made in bed were for his benefit and their mutual pleasure. It was not to intimidate but to bring ecstasy and was exactly the same as what John did when he was in the mood for it. Today, he wanted to give up decision-making and let Sherlock take good care of him. His mind, however supplied ideas aplenty as he imagined how else they could make good use of the mirror so he could reciprocate in the future. 

John’s cheeks were being massaged now and he watched Sherlock’s hungry look as he caressed them. Sherlock’s hands were amazing on John’s body, making him feel like a well-loved instrument Sherlock could caress for hours on end, eliciting all the sounds he wanted from it. 

“Play me Sherlock...” came out of his mouth before he  realised he said it out loud. 

“Oh, I intend to.” The growl was a promise Sherlock was clearly prepared to keep. 

The pale form disappeared from the reflection and John lowered himself to his elbows to see a mop of still-wet curls right above his arse. A moment later, he felt Sherlock’s lips delivering tiny kisses to his heated skin. Just when John was relaxing into the soft sensation, Sherlock licked a wet stripe between his cheeks and John released all the air from his lungs in a loud moan. 

The tingle caused by the lick travelled down his abdomen and straight to his cock, making it twitch with excitement. John widened his stance, giving Sherlock better access, waiting for more of the delightful ministrations. The change in position caused the wet tip of his cock to brush on the soft linen of their bedding, and John hissed at the contact. The urge to either rut into the mattress or reach over to alleviate the need with his hand arose. 

Reading his body language again, Sherlock gripped John’s cock softly to give it a tug first, then a slow stroke. John had to breathe through the overwhelming sensations so as not to come too quickly while Sherlock’s tongue started teasing his entrance as his hand was tugging his cock at the same time. John could feel Sherlock’s tongue proceeding from slow strokes into lapping, wetting his hole with eager motions, kissing him properly with needy energy as opposed to necessity. Sherlock alternated the motions, using the wide, flat part of his tongue, then the probing tip. He licked slowly, dragging his tongue then delivered quick sensational licks. John delighted in the abandon with which his lover approached their sex life, giving his whole self into the act each time.

As John’s panting and groaning intensified, Sherlock positioned John’s cock so that it pointed back toward the detective, pushing his balls up, creating friction. The lick to the soft skin of John’s sac made him keen loudly.

“Ahhhh...just like that...” When he felt Sherlock’s lips wrapping around his sac to suck, he had to grip the sheets to stop himself from squirming. He was a lot better at staying in place that way. He would know, because Sherlock tended to wiggle when he was in that position, which led to John restraining him with rope more often. 

Sherlock busied himself with driving John insane with the need to come as his  right hand teased John’s entrance, left hand stroked his cock and mouth sucked his balls. Sherlock was the king of multitasking in the bedroom, bringing John near orgasm again, wrenching lewd moans from him. He was close... so damn close... The moment John’s thighs shook, only Sherlock's left hand stayed, squeezing John’s cock as the rest of the sensations disappeared. John breathed and worked his abdomen to refrain from coming as his whole body seemed to vibrate at low frequency.  Sherlock had known when to stop, he always did. 

“Are you okay?” Sherlock asked, his voice sounding as aroused as John felt. He nodded, knowing the question was whether he managed to withdraw from the brink of his orgasm rather than there being something wrong. 

“Yes...” John breathed and swallowed to be able to speak clearly. “Could you talk to me? I want to hear your voice.”  _ Your sexy voice that drives me wild...  _

“ Mmmm ” A familiar click was followed by the feel of thick, cool liquid pouring over John’s hole. “I’d have to stop using my mouth on you...” Sherlock’s fingers spread the lube as he spoke. “And use my hands instead.” 

“Yes...” John breathed, shamelessly pushing into the touch.

“Your arse is so  needy, I think I’ll start with my thumb.” At that, John felt his puckered entrance accepting Sherlock’s digit. Thicker than his forefinger would be, Sherlock had to press harder for it to slide inside, adding incredible sensation. 

“Fuck... just  ahhh ...” John shivered, relaxing, welcoming his  fiancé inside his body. 

“Is that you asking for more?” The triumphant tone in Sherlock’s voice was a seductive velvet to John’s ears.

“Yes.”

“Hmmm” Sherlock swirled the tip of his thumb just inside but didn’t move it further. John knew why that was and he was comfortable in his skin and with Sherlock enough to let go of the proper façade they all had to keep in public. With Sherlock he had no barriers, no rules of propriety bar the basic ‘Safe, Sane, and Consensual’.

“Yes..., please...” He gasped as his body was now swallowing Sherlock’s thumb whole. 

“You’re so tight, so warm and welcoming.” Sherlock's voice was penetrating John’s mind as he moved the thumb around. “But your blush is fading.”

“Ah!” John yelped at the slap Sherlock’s other hand delivered.

“Your arse creates such delightful waves when smacked.” Sherlock purred before he landed one more on the other cheek. John felt his  precome staining the sheets as his engorged cock swayed from the movement of his body prompted with the slaps. 

“More... please.” John moaned and looked in the mirror to see the aroused and determined expression on Sherlock’s face. _ Dear God, he was hot... _

“More slaps or more fingers?” Sherlock met his gaze in the mirror and pulled his thumb out of John making him moan at the emptiness.

“Fingers.” He answered  decisively. Sherlock’s grin was wicked and oh so sexy as his curls fell on his forehead, making him look wild.

“Smart. You need to be prepared for my cock.” Sherlock poured more lube then spread it with his index finger before he slid it inside almost halfway making John grip the sheets harder. This was why he liked being tied up, he could hold onto the restraints better, ground himself for the pleasure. Next time. The trust he had in his fiancé, allowed him the freedom to forego all worries and give into the pleasure. John moved on Sherlock’s finger in search of more. He was moments away from yelling their  safeword just to beg to be fucked already. Just then, however, Sherlock added more lube and John knew his cock will be next.

“You do want my cock, don’t you, John?” Sherlock's arousal was clear in his voice. John nodded. Of course, he bloody wanted it. At this point, he needed it so  that he wouldn’t go insane.

“I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes.” John panted as  Sherlock’s middle finger joined the one already inside him.

“I want you to say it.”

“I want... oh God...” He pushed his arse on Sherlock’s fingers until they were in as far as they could go. “I want your cock in me.”

“ Mmm , good. That can be arranged.” Sherlock twisted his wrist, driving his fingers in and out with a wonderfully torturous rhythm. This time John bit into the sheets not to grind his teeth and moaned into the fabric. “Keep your eyes on me.” Sherlock ordered and John realised he’d closed his eyes. Opening them, he levelled his gaze on his lover in the mirror. His arm was working, the lean muscles visible clearly in the bedroom lighting as it moved to deliver pleasure, hitting the sweet spot decisively but not too hard. The measured slaps were gloriously paced with the fingering and John could feel himself nearing the brink again as his eyes fluttered closed. “John!” The sharp exclamation accompanied the disappearance of Sherlock’s touch from his body and John’s eyes flew open. “Not yet.” Sherlock licked the fingers that were in John just moments before in an obscene gesture, moaning around them, making it harder for John to back away from the orgasm threatening to explode. 

Finally, he released a breath knowing the wave had passed and he nodded to Sherlock in the mirror to let him know. Sherlock placed his palms on John’s hips and gently pulled him back. He expected to receive Sherlock’s cock in the same position, but no, that would be too dull for the detective.

“Sit on me, so we both can see each other in the mirror.” Sherlock instructed and proceeded to position himself. He put pillows behind his back and sat with his legs spread. John followed the prompt, positioning himself over Sherlock with his legs on both sides of his lover. 

Sex with Sherlock always meant a good workout and his thighs would remind him of this one tomorrow. It was a good thing they both kept up a bit of a workout routine even if just to keep up with the bedroom ideas they came up with on a regular basis. Cramps were a bitch when you were close to climax, and neither of them was in their twenties anymore. Sherlock positioned himself a bit to the side so he could still see them in the mirror to John’s right. John could see everything; Sherlock’s long legs parted, his heavy cock bouncing on his thigh, leaking gloriously in anticipation for John. Above it all was John in similar position, his arms supporting his upper body on both sides of Sherlock and his arse in the air, ready to be pounded into. 

Sherlock slicked his hand in lube and applied it to his cock, hissing as his fist made a tunnel he thrust into just twice before holding it pointed up. John positioned himself accordingly and let out a long breath as the tip of Sherlock’s sizable cock breached his entrance. 

“Oh fuck, Sherlock...” He  growled, his voice raspy from the moaning he had been doing.

“Yes, that’s right. Show me how much you want to be filled.” Sherlock’s baritone was wickedly sinful making John sink lower eagerly. He relished the stretch, the slight burn, and moaned his lover’s name, watching his body in the mirror as it swallowed the length of Sherlock’s cock. “Exquisite... oh John...” it was Sherlock’s turn to moan and it was music to John’s ears.

John looked at the reflection of his own face and found that he was sporting a wicked grin now. He was ready to drive Sherlock to orgasm, make him scream his name. Rotating his hips, he stirred Sherlock’s cock inside himself before he lifted up and sank back down, revelling in the feeling of fullness and pleasing friction.

The lewd noises coming from his detective enticed him more and he angled himself so that the tip of Sherlock’s cock would hit the sweet spot inside him. 

The yelp of pleasure was loud as his nerve endings seemed to burst into flames. He saw the blush took over his face and upper chest now as his thighs started to tremble with exertion and the looming orgasm. 

“Lay on me.” Sherlock instructed from behind him, speaking between heavy pants. John lay his back on Sherlock’s front and angled his head so he could kiss his fiancé. The kiss was needy, sloppy, and filled with  an equal amount of affection and lust. It was a miracle there was no visible steam coming off of them. John’s cock twitched on his abdomen, so very close to release it was almost painful. Sherlock braced his legs and snapped his hips to drive his cock deep into John.

“Yes!” John’s scream was muffled by Sherlock's mouth on his, as he continued  pistoning , making John mewl incoherent noises that may or may not included his fiancé's name said over and over again. 

“You feel so good, John.” Sherlock panted into his ear as they broke the kiss. “I need to come. Come with me. Come for me, John. Now.” The last part was a growl at which John’s body let go and he soared. Closing his eyes, he felt the wave of orgasm as tingling energy being sucked from his whole body and travelling to his groin.

“Sherlock!” He yelled as hot spurts of semen painted his abdomen, his cock needing no touch to finish the release. 

“John, John, oh  Joooohn ....” were the words in his ear as he felt Sherlock’s cock twitch inside him. 

They writhed in ecstasy together, riding the wave of mutual pleasure until both their bodies stopped moving.

John kissed Sherlock’s jaw as it was the  furthest he could reach when Sherlock's head was thrown back. Then he managed to look in the mirror, inspecting the aftermath of their workout. After a slight movement of his body to see better, he observed Sherlock’s cock sliding out of him to rest, half-flaccid on the mattress between his legs. The evidence of Sherlock's release leaked out of John and he couldn’t believe he was able to calmly observe such an obscene sight in the mirror. 

Rolling off of Sherlock, he searched for his lips again. The kiss was lazy this time, familiar, a physical “thank you” on both sides. 

“That was fantastic.” John murmured.

“ Mmmhmm I knew you’d like the mirror.”

“I do. And I have a few ideas for how to use it again.”

Sherlock’s grin was slow as he looked at John from under his lashes. “I don’t doubt it.”

“For now, though.” John lifted himself up on his elbow. “I need to clean up while you make tea.”

“Me?” Sherlock gasped,  appalled .

“Yup.” John kissed the tip of Sherlock's scrunched-up nose and got off the bed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, kudos and comments!  
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You can read more from the happy Johnlock world in [The Johnlock Holidays and Celebrations Series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1256318)  
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